


To beat around the bush

by StoriesbyNessie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birthday, Boys Kissing, Confessions, Drunk Draco Malfoy, Drunk Ron Weasley, Drunken Kissing, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Frottage, Humor, M/M, Male Slash, POV Draco Malfoy, Romance, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoriesbyNessie/pseuds/StoriesbyNessie
Summary: Draco and Ron have taken a habit to sleep with each other. That’s literally all they do. So when Ron wants to spend time with Draco outside of the bedroom, it certainly is strange…
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162





	To beat around the bush

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: It's my birthday this week so I wrote this little fic because of it. It's fluffy, cute and feelgood. Hope you enjoy. :)

”Shut up,” Ron muttered, ungracefully grabbing Draco’s hand and dragging him along with him. ”I’m trying to be romantic here.”

”Oh really? You don’t know a thing about being romantic Weasley, I’ll tell you that much,” Draco snorted, unwillingly following the redhead to wherever they were going.

Ron sighed and muttered something about Draco being an ungrateful bastard which, ironically, made Draco smile and he turned his head so Ron wouldn’t see. Draco would never admit these things aloud, but he liked the way Ron’s hand felt in his and how he took it so freely when they were _outdoors_ where anyone could spot them; even though they were nowhere near any kind of civilization at the moment. Over the course of the four weeks they’d hung out together, Draco had grown rather fond of the freckles scattering Ron’s face, the way his fiery red hair shone in the sunlight and how had he never noticed before just _how_ blue Weasley's eyes were? He’d spent half his life hating those features to no end and now…

They were somewhere in the forest, it was the beginning of April and the sun stood high in the cloudless sky. It was a hot day out, too hot for this time of year but thanks to cooling charms they were able to be outside without losing their minds. Ron was overdressed, wearing a tatty maroon jumper over his T-shirt so he wouldn’t get a horrible sunburn, which by the way was already forming at the nape of his neck. Draco reminded himself to point it out later on, reasoning Ron’s wild, unkempt hair probably could protect some of the delicate skin for the time being.

Despite all the kissing, groping and not to mention the sex they’d been having, Draco wasn’t really sure where he and Ron stood. They had never talked about it. 

Ever since that night in the beginning of March, they’d only met up a few times for such intimate activities. Between all that, they never really saw each other. Draco was used to Ron being gone before he woke up in the morning and that was that.

So when Ron’s terrier Patronus jumped through the wall and landed on Draco’s bed yesterday evening in his flat with a message that Ron wanted to show him something followed by instructions to where Draco could Apparate, Draco was very much surprised. But at the same time, he couldn’t help feeling a tingling warmth deep down in his belly. Ron had sent it knowing that Draco couldn’t send a Patronus back so he had no choice but to follow the redhead’s whim. And Ron had just seconds ago referred to this activity as something romantic. So... Did it mean they were a couple then? Did Ron think so?

_But we’ve only been…_

”Right… But you do?” Ron shot him a smile that showed he didn’t believe Draco was very good at romance either. Draco felt his cheeks glowing, which was embarrassing. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Fortunately, Ron seemed to drop the subject. He let go of Draco’s hand too and pushed a few branches out of the way.The air smelt of flowers, grass and farming lands and the promise of a nice summer hung in the faint wind that did nothing to cool down the heat from the burning sun.

”Merlin, this heat is brutal,” Ron established, moving his long fringe out of his eyes. ”Would’ve fainted by now if you hadn’t cast all those cooling charms earlier.” Despite those, his red hair was still darkened at the temples by sweat and he was a little red in the face, too.

”That’s because you don’t know how to dress properly,” Draco pointed out. ”You’ve got a knitted too thick jumper on in bloody April. That your mother gave you for Christmas. When you actually had use for it.”

”It’s nothing wrong with my jumper!” Ron huffed, pushing a couple more branches to the side so Draco could get past them without getting hit.

”No, of course not,” Draco replied sarcastically. ”The colour is absolutely not hideous at all.”

”Well, I can’t deny that it isn’t. Dunno why she keeps giving me maroon ones.” Ron frowned a little which was ridiculously cute and Draco almost winced at the passing thought. Sure, somewhere he reckoned he found Weasley attractive nowadays, otherwise he wouldn’t have slept with him in the first place. But having that thought cross his mind in other moments that didn’t involve both of them in a naked, messy pile in Draco’s bed was unusual. Between their shags, he never really thought much about him, not until lately when Ron seemed to _weasel_ himself under Draco’s skin without him giving him permission to.

It all had started in the first week of March, it had been Friday and Draco had found himself in a rather gross pub in a suspicious corner of magical London. He had gone there merely out of pure defiance; his father would never approve of such place and despite being an adult and technically able to do whatever he wanted, Lucius had his opinions about what his son should and shouldn’t do. In Draco’s younger days, his father’s words had been more than just expressed opinions; they’d been words put into action. Despite him being calmer nowadays, Draco still found it stressful and infuriating. It was ridiculous to rebel at the age of twenty-one, yet he had done just that. And it had felt bloody brilliant.

That was, of course, before he discovered Weasley’s presence by the bar counter. The pub had been dimly lit so Draco hadn’t spotted the ginger hair until he was next to its owner, otherwise he would have left, that he was sure of.

His mouth, however, seemed to work on its own accord.

”I’m not surprised finding you here Weasley,” Draco had heard himself drawl, looking around in disgust. ”You must feel right at home I bet.” His eyes had fallen on the other patrons; all of them were in various states of drunk, filthy and poor. Most of them had kept to themselves, sitting alone in their own corners. A man had fallen asleep by his table. The only sounds had come from occasional coughing, somebody turned a page in _The Daily Prophet,_ snoring from the sleeping old man and clatter from glasses. Two young men had been in an eager discussion not far from Draco and Ron in what had appeared to be the events of the latest Quidditch match, heads bent close together over their drinks. The pub had had a funny smell to it Draco couldn’t quite place. A sort of sweet smell mixed with something sour. It had made him nauseous and he wrinkled his nose.

”Nice.” Ron looked up at the sound of Draco’s voice. He had almost laughed, shaking his head. ”You lost or something, Malfoy?”

”What, no telling me to shut up? No snide comment? That’s not like you,” Draco had commented, sitting down on the barstool next to Weasley.

The redhead had only shrugged. ”Grown up, I suppose.”

Draco had snorted at that. ”Never thought you had it in you.”

Ron had taken a swig of his beer. ”Never answered my question though. Why’re you here?”

”Happened to be nearby,” Draco had said offhandedly as he called for the witch by the bar counter to order a glass of red wine.

Ron had looked immensely confused. ”Right…”

”Or perhaps I’m simply seeking entertainment of some sort.”

”Well, let me know when you find any then.” Ron had rolled his eyes and resumed looking at a dirty spot on the table surface, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Something had seemed a little… off with him Draco remembered and it had made him curious. He hadn’t seen Weasley since the Battle of Hogwarts except for the few times he visited the Ministry on business. The Ministry in which Weasley worked. Draco always hated going there, people kept staring at him and he felt utterly unwanted. They hadn’t talked to each other then but under the lights in the disgusting pub, it had seemed so unavoidable.

They had mostly sat in silence at first, but Ron had never made a move to leave so Draco hadn’t either. When he’d finished his first glass of wine he had ordered another and then another one after that, watching as the pub filled with more people in tatty clothing. They had seemed to get louder as the night progressed.

”Something’s up with you Weasley,” Draco had finally had the courage to say. He hadn’t known why but it had bothered him. The Weasley he’d always known was brash and loud and this Weasley seemed like a shell of that. Too awfully quiet.

Ron shot him a funny look then he smiled a little. ”Why d’you think that? Just because I’m not telling you off? I could, but don’t you think we’re a little too old for all that crap?” His long fiery fringe hung over one eye and Draco had blinked as he suddenly had been hit with an urge of wanting to gently move it, tuck it behind his ear or something. Draco’s cheeks had flushed a little at the thought, realising it must be the wine doing it. Thankfully, Ron had moved the hair out of his eyes himself shortly after.

”I just find it peculiar,” Draco had drawled back.

”Well, I think it’s peculiar you sit here getting wasted off that wine of yours in a pub that’s so far from your usual whereabouts one might get the idea you actually came here of your own free will,” Ron had said amused. ”Are you escaping from something, Malfoy?”

It had outraged Draco of how spot on Ron had been. He had wanted to snarl something but instead a useless ”I’m not drunk,” defiantly came out of his mouth.

Weasley had actually laughed. ”If you say so, mate. You’re absolutely not blushing like a girl after a few glasses of wine.”

Draco was a fucking lightweight and of course Ron noticed.

”We’re not mates Weasley,” Draco had snarled then only causing Weasley to laugh some more. Suddenly it was as though Draco couldn’t help but laugh too and soon both of them had broken out in hysterical fits of laughter. They had never done that before but it had been great.

Draco shuddered at the memory as he followed Ron deeper into the forest.

”Almost there,” said Ron, taking Draco’s hand again. ”You all right?”

”Are you kidnapping me, Weasley?” Draco was still not admitting Ron’s hand felt wonderful in his. If only Ron would stop walking. Draco suddenly wanted the redhead to kiss him but he didn’t want to ask for it. Truth be told, he wanted it ever since they met up earlier.

_Just because you’ve fucked him once in a while doesn’t mean he’s entitled to kiss you. You never kiss outside of the bedroom walls._ Draco’s inner voice was relentless, reminding him of the truth.

_’But he’s holding my hand… And he said—’_

_Still. It may not mean anything._

”Course I am,” Ron grinned.

At the gross pub, Weasley had been drunk but not nearly as drunk as Draco. The blond almost toppled over as they had walked out of the pub around midnight and the redhead laughed and teased him mercilessly for it.

”Not drunk at all, eh?”

”Shut up, Weasley,” Draco had responded intelligently, enjoying the cool breeze hitting his face as Ron had pushed the door open.

Not really caring, they had walked together down the streets of Diagon Alley. The streets had been packed with people in various states of drunk of their own and nobody paid any attention to them. People had been loudly talking, screaming, making noises. Ron’s eyes had been as blue as the ocean, which Draco had noticed all night and once again he had cursed himself inwardly. Why was he drawn to the redhead like a fucking magnet suddenly?

”Never thought I’d say this, but this has been fun,” Ron had said as they reached an Apparation point in an alleyway a little farther from the pub. ”Mainly because apparently you’re hilarious while drunk.” He had chuckled and stared down at his dirty shoes. ”This birthday wasn’t so miserable after all.”

Draco’s heart had hammered in his chest when he turned to Ron, mouth slightly open in surprise and he remembered he’d suddenly felt very sober. ”I beg your pardon?”

Ron had shrugged and simply stuck his hands in the pockets of his worn-out jeans. ”It’s my birthday today,” he'd mumbled, cheeks flushing a little and he still didn’t meet Draco’s eyes. ”It was shit. Up until, well… we got pissed, I suppose.”

Draco hadn’t known how to reply so instead he said: ”Why’s that?”

Ron’s laugh had been flat and hollow. ”Got dumped this morning. By owl, can you imagine? S’pose it was for the best though. Still… bloody good birthday present, eh?”

”I’m sorry.” Draco’s grey eyes had looked away; it had felt awkward getting this little intimate detail from Weasley’s life. Weasley, the boy he’d grown up to despise along with his whole family.

”Don’t be,” Ron had said. ”It’s okay.”

”It’s fucking cowardly dumping someone by owl.” Not even Draco had done that ever and that was saying something, he’d thought. He had suddenly felt furious at the person Ron had shared something with.

Weasley had laughed again. His skin had looked almost yellow out there in the dark, the only source of light coming from a torch nearby, illuminating him.”Never heard you use the F-word before.”

”Fuck.”

It was almost ridiculous how close Weasley had to laughing but Draco had seen beneath the haze of being drunk it was the kind of laugh that did not quite meet his eyes. He’d been hurt.

They had been standing so they faced each other, a faint wind carrying the smell of food from somebody selling hotdogs down the street had been blowing by and maybe it had been Draco’s imagination but the air had seemed so tense then. The redhead had been absolutely right that Draco had been so amazingly wasted his knees had felt soft and it had been beyond the point of reason. Curse red wine. Under any normal circumstances Draco would’ve never slurred about how Ron deserved a good birthday present after that horrible treatment and pulled him close by his shirt collar and kissed him, full-on, passionately and open-mouthed and the whole situation had been gloriously brain-melting.

Ron had gasped for air when he’d pulled away and put a distance from what had been the hottest kiss Draco probably ever experienced, staring wide-eyed at the former Slytherin.

”The hell?” His reddened mouth had been in an o-shape in utter surprise.

Draco had been staring too, equally wide-eyed. ”Apologies Weasley, I don’t know why I did that.” He remembered his heart had pounded so fast in his chest he was sure it would jump out of his throat.

”You fucking idiot,” Ron had breathed, staggering a little which brought him a little closer to Draco again. Like a bloody magnet, it seemed like.

”I’m sorry, Weasley…” Draco had hated himself for it and promised inwardly to never touch another glass of wine again. Ron’s blue eyes gleamed in the torchlight and they flickered a little, as if they were unsure where to look. He was standing there all close and freckles and ginger hair and Draco hated how he’d wanted more, more of what had taken place a few seconds ago.

He had felt the red brick wall hit his back hard as Ron suddenly pushed him against it. ”Don’t care,” the redhead declared before claiming Draco’s mouth by his own free will. Draco had sighed and melted into the kiss and felt himself turn to jelly in Ron’s arms. One hand had stroked over the redhead’s shoulder, the other dug into flaming red hair. Bloody freakin’ baron, Draco remembered thinking Weasley was an excellent kisser. That giant ginger tosser.

”Might be a bit too drunk too,” Ron had groaned and Draco had gasped in pleasure as the redhead’s large warm hands had gone up the back of his impeccable shirt, seeking out bare flesh. His hands had groped and squeezed shamelessly everything he could find: Draco’s arse, the small of his back, his hips, up the sides of his body. ”And I dunno what’s happening.” He had licked the shell of Draco’s right ear and kissed a spot beneath his earlobe which had made Draco shudder and awakened his cock faster than anything had ever done before.

”Me neither…” Draco had heard himself babble then. ”God Weasley, that feels amazing…”

”I just want to escape,” Ron had whispered in his ear. It had tickled.

”Me too…”

Something in Draco’s stomach twitched at the memory that seemed so long ago but had only been four weeks earlier. His cock stirred too and he hoped to calm it down before Ron noticed anything. Actually, maybe he wouldn’t. He was too damn focussed on the path ahead. His hand was warm and the palm sweaty.

It was humid out here. Soon the green trees were switched out to a more open landscape. Ron pointed to something in the near distance. A hill.

”That’s where we’re heading. Up there.”

”We’re climbing?” Draco frowned.

”Mostly walking but a little bit yeah, it’s not far,” Ron assured him.

”For your information, I most certainly do not climb, _Weasley_ ,” Draco said and this time, he was the one letting go of Ron’s hand. ”It’s bad enough I’ve let myself into the forest. You’re lucky it’s dry out today, if my shoes had gotten all muddy it would’ve been—”

”An utter disaster, I’ll tell you that much. Have I ever told you what a giant prick I am?” Ron imitated, turning to face Draco. His eyes sparkled with mischief before he broke out into laughter. It was infuriating how annoyingly well he managed to sound _just like_ Draco. ”Shut up. It’ll be worth it. Promise.”

”We could have flown,” Draco said pointedly.

”Nah, not for this.”

”And for the record, I’m _not_ a giant prick. However, I do _have_ one.”

”Yeah, you do,” Ron said, grinning. ”Still are one though.”

”Well, in that case you’re a giant… bog roll,” said Draco sulkily, irritated he didn’t think of anything better. Much to his dissatisfaction Ron laughed some more and pushed Draco’s shoulder playfully.

”You have the weirdest insults, Malfoy.”

Draco was outraged and his cheeks glowed red. It was humiliation at its worst. Malfoys never blushed, yet since Ron weaselled himself into Draco’s life, Draco seemed to do that a whole lot. They were entirely alone in that blasted yellow-green environment, birds chirping in the treetops. Ron laughed so much he was almost bent double. He clutched his belly while Draco was glowering.

”Are you done?” He asked pointedly after a few minutes.

”Aww, don’t sulk,” Ron laughed and wiped the tears out of his eyes. ”Come on. It’ll be worth it.”

”I highly doubt it.”

”Trust me”. Ron tugged on Draco’s arm. Something inside Draco sparked golden like sunshine whenever the redhead’s hands made contact with his skin. It made him so warm and fuzzy and it was such an unusual feeling.

As they walked, his mind couldn’t help but wander back to that first night when they made out in that alleyway.

_What are you doing? You’re pathetic. You can’t fall for him. He doesn’t like you like that you fool._

”Do you want to come home with me?” Is what Draco should’ve been asking then but he had been too breathless, pressed against the wall as he was and Ron’s tongue stuck down his throat. His own hands had moved south too, finding a firm, round arse that almost felt like it didn’t belong on the otherwise skinny and lanky body that was Ron’s.

Draco felt the redhead’s hips buck against his own slender body; something deep inside him tingled as their erections pressed together. Whatever this was it felt absolutely brilliant and he never wanted it to stop. He had nipped at Ron’s swollen bottom lip and moaned.

They had been kissing some more and Ron’s thumb gently massaged Draco’s larynx. He had dipped his head and mouthed the side of Draco’s neck and the blond had felt how a long nose nuzzled up and down his throat, inhaling the scent. Draco’s head had tipped backwards and his fingers had sunken deep into Ron’s thick hair again.

”This is mental,” Ron had muttered, his voice had been a little muffled. ”You’re so… You make me so… nngh… I don’t know what to fucking say.”

Draco hadn’t been able to answer; his breathing had become immensely heavy all of a sudden and the air too damn thin. Ron had put one of his legs between Draco’s, forcing Draco’s legs to spread a little and experimentally rubbed his thigh against Draco’s hard cock. Draco’s pulse had been in his ears, he hadn’t been able to hear anything else than his own sped up breathing and random noises of pleasure as his hips seemed to move entirely on their own.

He still blushed at the memory. How he so desperately had been riding Ron’s thigh and dry humping against him as if his life had depended on it.

Ron had given him a sly smile when he’d heard Draco moan and kissed him one more time, his tongue languidly grazing the blonds before pulling away slightly and replacing his wonderful lips with his wide hand over Draco’s mouth.

”Shh…” He’d whispered. ”You’ll alert the whole Diagon Alley with those sounds…” Ron moved over to Draco’s ear again, placing tiny kisses along the outer shell of it. ”But I like them,” He’d added softly, Draco’s breath had hitched in his throat at the feeling of warm breath in his ear. ”You’re _fucking_ gorgeous when you sound like that. Just keep it down a little, yeah?”

”Shut up Weasley, e-everything’s your d-damn fault…” Draco had been struggling hard to regain some sort of control, but he had been defeated and they’d been rocking and bucking and Weasley’s thigh had rubbed violently against Draco’s prick and he pressed himself harder and harder against him until he suddenly exploded, actually biting into the palm of Ron’s hand. His white-blond hair had been an utter mess and he’d felt ashamed coming in his bloody pants, shaking with aftershocks. Ron’s body had been warm and wonderful under his hands as they’d been gathering fistfuls of fabric at the back of Ron’s shirt. They had leant into each other like that for a while; Ron had let Draco catch his breath. Draco’s forehead had been pressed against his throat, he hadn’t dared to look up to meet the other man’s eyes. His cheeks had been burning.

Then, they’d heard sounds of footsteps and cheerful voices heading their way. Ron had tensed up and torn himself away from Draco. Draco had grabbed his arm.

”Let’s Disapparate,” he mumbled and fixed his gaze on Ron’s shoes. ”I’ve got a flat.”

Draco remembered how Ron had actually looked gleeful at the words.

_Maybe it was because it hadn’t been the Manor. Father had been furious when I wanted my own place._

”Okay.”

Once they’d Apparated in his bedroom, there’d only been a few charged seconds until they had been kissing again. Draco had a vague memory of pushing Weasley down on his bed and how his lips had been red and swollen. He’d undressed him with such force the buttons on his shirt had been flying off in every direction into the unknown.

Draco had felt immensely dizzy. Somewhere between tearing off Weasley’s shirt and reaching for the lube had gotten him hard again. Ron had been so warm to the touch and the scent of him was bending Draco’s brain. He had smelled of the smokey air from the bar, wind, beer and something else that was entirely unique to him.

Draco had actually been glad he’d been drunk during that first fuck that was supposed to have been the only one.

_Thank Merlin for wine._

The morning after had been somewhat awkward as they both woke up sober and hungover.

”Christ…” Ron had groaned to the ceiling and put his hands on his face. He had been laying on his back in Draco’s bed with Draco’s head on his chest. ”This can’t happen again. Ever. It was a mistake.”

The blond had been a mix between being confused over who this _christ_ Weasley referred to was and glowering because Draco Malfoy couldn’t possibly be a mistake to anyone ever. Fucking Weasley. _He_ had been the mistake if anyone was.

”Yes, I agree. I normally don’t do this with people from such a low social class as yourself,” Draco had huffed.

”Of course you don’t,” Ron had snorted. ”But you certainly didn’t complain last night…”

”Which was entirely the wine talking. Now get out Weasley, I have plans.”

That had been a lie.

It had also been a fucking lie that they were never going to sleep with each other ever again, because one week later, they’d somehow run into each other and ended up horizontal in bed once again. And again. And again. Always at Draco’s place.

Ron always left before he woke up. That had been like an unspoken rule.

And now they were climbing some hill Weasley absolutely _had_ to climb. First time he wanted to do something outside of the bedroom and this had been what he was propositioning?

Draco still didn’t get what this all meant.

Especially not with all the random handholding.

”What on earth are we doing, Weasley?” Draco was panting from exhaustion; the hill seemed to go on forever and all it did was pointing up, up, up. The question had an underlying meaning to it too, but he wasn’t sure if Ron was getting it. He stopped moving.

”Climbing,” Ron grinned, not quite as out of breath as Draco was. ”Walking upwards. We’re almost there, come on. Just a little further.” He reached out his hand again for the blond to take it.

Draco didn’t. Instead, he mustered all his courage and fixed his stormy grey eyes in Ron’s ocean blue.

”I mean, what on earth _are we doing,_ Weasley? Why am I here?”

Ron creased his eyebrows in confusion. ”What do you mean?”

Draco’s mood soured and he couldn’t help to think Weasley was incredibly dense. ”We don’t spend time together, you and I. We’re certainly not friends. All we’ve done is…” He stumbled around the words, not really wanting to say it.

Ron blinked and redness spread across his freckled face. His gaze dropped to the brown ground.

”Yeah, I know,” He mumbled, somewhat shyly. ”I was… I mean…”

”What?” Draco demanded.

Ron shook his head and started walking again. His steps were long and fast and Draco, who’d gotten renewed energy from being angry, jogged beside him.

”I don’t get what the hell this is about. Unless you are planning to sacrifice me or something. You are so bloody weird, Weasley.”

Ron kept his eyes firmly on the ground as they walked. Draco noticed how his hands had balled into fists at his sides and the tips of his ears had turned bright red. He was silent and the lack of answers were almost tearing Draco apart.He was about to turn on his heel and head back to the Apparition point when he realised they had reached the top and he could only gape at what was in front of him.

It was the most breathtaking, beautiful view Draco had ever seen. They were high up and were looking out over the green and yellow fields. A river was flowing between the lands, large green trees could be seen in the distance and he spotted a village with houses that looked doll sized from this angle.

”What’s this?” He breathed, completely amazed.

”Ottery St Catchpole,” Ron shrugged, hands in his pockets as he squinted at the view. His facial features were relaxed and it was clear he enjoyed it. ”The village I grew up in. And… We’re currently in the forest I played in as a kid. I… My family home is not far from here.”

”You took me to your home?” Draco’s felt himself tense by his shoulders and he heard how strained and incredulous his voice sounded.

”Yeah, we don’t have to visit my parents or anything.” Ron smiled a little. ”I just wanted to show you this view, really. I’ve never been up here with anyone before. I like going here though. To… think and such.”

”I don’t understand…” Draco wavered a little while his heart was doing some kind of somersault inside his ribcage.

Ron didn’t remove his gaze from the beautiful landscape in front of them as he spoke. His folded his arms over his chest and his foot kicked something invisible in front of them.

”Been thinking a lot, actually…lately…” His cheeks reddened. ”I dunno why we do, well, what we do… But I like it,” The little admission slipped out fast as the redhead firmly shut his eyes as if he was afraid of the words and how he felt.

Draco’s heart pounded so hard in his chest it hurt.

”But I also want more,” Ron continued slowly. ”And I sorta hoped… Well…”

”I would want it as well,” Draco offered, feeling the pieces of the puzzle finally fall into place.

Ron nodded. ”I tried showing it before but… I suck at these things apparently. I know it’s fucked up but I was thinking… We aren’t kids anymore and we don’t go to Hogwarts anymore and everything’s changed and…” He trailed off.

Draco folded his arms over his chest too, watching Ron’s profile. The faint wind played with his hair. Ron opened his eyes again, blinking a few times, adjusting to the light. When he turned to look at Draco, he fixed his blue eyes on everything else _but_ Draco’s eyes.

”Well?” He asked hesitantly. ”Say something?”

He sounded terrified and Draco refused to acknowledge how utterly adorable it was. And how afraid he himself felt too.

”I suppose I’m rather fond of you too, Weasley,” Draco said. ”You have hideous taste in clothing but they are never really on when we spend time together, are they?” He shot him a sly smile.

Ron laughed a little. ”That’s one way to put it. Admitting you like me and end it all with an insult. But it wouldn’t be you otherwise, would it?”

”Insult? How dare you, I only speak the truth.”

”Mhm.” Ron smiled back at him. It was so genuine and beautiful and real. Draco never wanted Ron to stop smiling at him in that way.

Unable to stop himself, he closed the gap between them and did what he secretly had been wanting to do all day. Draco kissed Ron, watching as Ron’s eyes slipped shut before his own did, too.

He enjoyed the feeling of Ron’s long arms wrapping round his waist and holding him tighter than he’d ever done before. Draco’s fingers dug into the knitted fabric of Ron’s maroon jumper. Their chests pressed together and their hearts were beating together as one. Ron’s tongue in Draco’s mouth felt perfect.

_Absolutely perfect._

-The End-


End file.
